A huge Japanese lay half asleep on the immaculate mats of his living-room floor. Wall panels had been pulled wide so that he could contemplate his precise garden and bask in the afternoon sunshine. His brown, rough-silk kimono lay open from shoulder to ankle, his undershirt was unbuttoned, he wiggled his toes in white, mitten-like socks. His radio blared a grunt-by-grunt account of the winter sumo wrestling matches.
Occasionally staccato news flashes broke in: The Abe Cabinet is definitely out . . . Prince Konoye is being urged . ....
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